The Prodigy's Bride No Way! Get Lost!

The wedding ceremony had already begun, but my groom, Ethan, was still in a corner with my best friend, Harper, discussing data from their latest lab experiment.

Anxious and embarrassed, I pulled Ethan's arm, trying to drag him toward the stage.

Ethan, the ceremony has started. Everyone is waiting.

"What?" Ethan muttered, his eyes still fixed on his tablet.

"The wedding..." Before I could even finish, Ethan cut me off.

"I wasn't talking to you."

He turned back to Harper without missing a beat. "What did you say the parameters were for the second trial?"

Harper gave me a condescending pat on the shoulder and whispered, "Chloe, we're talking about a major scientific breakthrough here. Just go out there and handle the guests for now. It's just a wedding. Worst case, we can always throw you another one later."

With that, the two of them dove back into a rapid-fire exchange of scientific jargon that sounded like gibberish to me. Getting more excited by the minute, they completely ignored me and the hundreds of staring guests.

Suddenly, they stood up, knocked over the champagne tower, and rushed out the door to the lab.

The glass shattered. Champagne soaked the train of my white dress. I was left standing on the stage alone, a complete mess.

But this time, I wasn't going to clean up their mess.

Host another wedding? No, thank you. Being the "prodigy's" bride? I quit.

Ethan and Harper had been geniuses since they were kids. I was always just the tagalong.

After college, they both became lead researchers at a prestigious biotech institute.

And me? I was just the receptionist at the front desk of that very same institute.

The three of us rented a house together. But in reality, I was their live-in maid. I did their laundry, cooked their meals, and was forever excluded from their intellectual conversations.

I drove home alone from my abandoned wedding.

At 2:00 AM, the front door finally clicked open.

Ethan and Harper walked in, laughing and talking loudly, completely uncaring that they had just woken me up.

"See, Ethan! I told you we needed to adjust the parameters my way! I was totally right!"

Ethan playfully pinched Harper's cheek, a competitive smirk on his lips. "You just got lucky, babe."

When they saw me standing in the hallway, Ethan casually tossed his dirty jacket onto the floor.

"Chloe, throw our clothes in the wash, will you?" he said, not even looking at me. "And make us some pasta. Harper is starving."

He didn't care at all about how the wedding had ended. He didn't ask how I got home.

"I'm tired," I said coldly.

It was the first time in our seven-year relationship that I had ever said no to him.

Ethan froze, clearly surprised.

Harper nudged his shoulder with her elbow, rolling her eyes. "Oh, Ethan, you idiot! Your EQ is literally rock bottom. Can't you see Chloe is throwing a tantrum?"

"You ignored her for the experiment today. She's mad!"

She lightly pinched Ethan's chest and laughed. "Alright, alright! I punished him for you, Chloe. Stop being mad, bestie!"

Ethan groaned, rubbing his temples in annoyance. "Chloe, we've been working in the lab for twelve hours straight. Can you please not make a scene?"

"It's just a wedding. How could that ever be more important than our research? Honestly, no one cares about weddings except the bride."

"We'll throw you a better one later."

But this wasn't the first time.

Two years ago, during our graduation trip, I waited at an international airport for seven hours because Ethan and Harper got "too caught up" in a simulation.

A year ago, at our engagement party, Harper called Ethan away because of an "instrument malfunction," leaving me to apologize to eighty guests on my own.

Over the past six months, I had scheduled four appointments at the courthouse for our marriage license. Ethan stood me up every time.

Every time, his excuse was the same: the lab needed him.

In their world of science, everything about me was completely trivial.

"What do you mean, 'just a wedding'?" I whispered.

But my question went completely unheard. They were already huddled over a stack of papers on the kitchen island, lost in their own world again.

Back then, everyone envied me. They said my fianc and my best friend were brilliant.

But I was done being a ghost in my own life.

Quietly, I opened my phone. I submitted my resume to a few open positions in Chicago and bought a one-way train ticket.

The next morning, Seattle was hit by a massive storm. The rain was pouring down in sheets.

I ran downstairs, hoping to catch a ride to work with Ethan.

Ethan was starting his Audi, talking animatedly with Harper, who was sitting in the passenger seat.

I tapped frantically on the rain-streaked window, but he didn't even turn his head. He stepped on the gas and drove off.

"Ethan, wait!"

I chased the car for a few steps, slipped on the wet asphalt, and fell hard, scraping my elbow.

The car didn't stop.

Whenever Harper was around, Ethan became completely blind to my existence.

I wiped the blood and mud off my arm with a tissue and dragged myself to the subway station.

By the time I reached the institute, I was late.

Ethan and Harper walked past the reception desk. When Ethan saw me, the smile slid off his face, replaced by a deep scowl.

"Is this how you do your job? Do you know what time it is?"

"Why didn't you wait for me this morning?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady.

Before Ethan could answer, Harper chimed in.

"Oh, Chloe, don't blame Ethan. You don't work in research, so you don't get it. Every second in the lab is crucial. We literally don't have time to waste waiting around."

She patted my shoulder with a patronizing smile.

Ethan sighed, looking at me like I was a difficult child.

"You knew it was raining. Why didn't you leave earlier?"

"Since we were kids, I've told you to be more disciplined. Why can't you ever listen?"

"I don't expect you to be a genius like Harper, but is it really that hard to just be a receptionist?"

But when Harper forgot her purse, Ethan would patiently wait for her for an hour, laughing and calling her "a genius in the lab, but a clumsy little princess in real life."

At that moment, I lost all desire to argue.

Suddenly, Ethan took a sharp step back, pretending he didn't know me.

Another colleague was walking by.

Ethan had always insisted we keep our relationship "strictly professional" at work to avoid gossip.

But the passing colleague stopped and smirked at Ethan and Harper.

"Oh, look! Dr. Miller and Dr. Vance! The golden couple of our institute is arriving together again!"

"Did you guys have a sweet little breakfast date before work?"

I kept my head down, feeling completely numb.

At the institute, everyone thought Ethan and Harper were the perfect match. Childhood sweethearts, both Ivy League PhDs, the rising stars of the biotech world.

Then, the colleague gasped.

"Who said Dr. Miller doesn't know how to pamper a girl? Harper, is that the new seasonal Chanel bag? That's almost impossible to get!"

I looked up and froze.

The bag on Harper's shoulder was beautiful.

I had mentioned that exact bag to Ethan months ago.

He had gone online and bought me a cheap, knock-off brand instead, telling me he was "too busy to research designer bags."

Yet, the authentic, limited-edition Chanel bag was hanging on Harper's arm.

"Hey, receptionist," the colleague barked, snapping her fingers in front of my face. "Can't you see Dr. Miller and Dr. Vance are discussing work? Go make some coffee. Show some initiative."

I snapped out of my daze, swallowing the bitterness in my throat.

"On it," I murmured, rushing to the breakroom.

But as I was serving the hot coffee, Harper got overly excited during their discussion. She flung her arm out, knocking the cup straight out of my hand.

The scalding liquid spilled down my arm and onto my shirt. The pain made me gasp, my face turning white.

Ethan immediately shoved me aside and grabbed Harper's hands, panic in his eyes.

"Harper! Are you okay? Did it burn you?"

Once he was sure she was untouched, he quickly wiped down the documents on the table, checking every page.

Only then did he look up at me, his voice dripping with anger.

"Can't you even serve coffee properly? Do you have any idea how important her hands are for our experiments?"

"Oh, Ethan, stop. Are you worried about me or the data?" Harper teased, pretending to be annoyed.

Then, she noticed my arm, which was already blistering. She let out a soft gasp.

"Oh my gosh, Chloe is really burned! Ethan, go get the burn cream!"

Ethan finally frowned, pulling my arm over to inspect it.

Seeing that no one else was watching, he gently blew on the burn and whispered, "Does it hurt? Hold on, I'll grab the first aid kit for you."

But I never got that cream.

As soon as Ethan turned around, Harper dragged him into the cleanroom, and he completely forgot about me.

After shivering in the storm and getting burned, I developed a raging fever by the afternoon.

Maybe because I looked like death, Ethan did something he never did. He wrapped up his work early and offered to drive me home.

My head was pounding. I decided that tonight, I would tell him the truth. The wedding was off, and I was leaving.

Halfway home, Harper suddenly gasped, looking at her phone.

"Ethan, pull over! Dr. Hayes is giving a surprise guest lecture at UW tonight! It's about our exact research model!"

Ethan's eyes lit up. "We can't miss this."

Then, he hesitated, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "But... Chloe is sick. Maybe I should drop her off first?"

He checked the dashboard clock. "No, traffic is terrible because of the storm. We'll be late if we detour."

"Chloe, you need to get out here and call an Uber. Don't worry, we'll come home right after the lecture to take care of you."

Before I could even stand steady on the wet curb, the black Audi sped away into the rain.

With a 103-degree fever, I nearly fainted on the sidewalk.

It took me two hours to get home, soaking wet and shivering.

The sink was still piled high with dishes from the weekend. Our "genius scientists" were too busy to do chores, so everything fell on me.

Once, I had asked Harper to help me hang the laundry. Ethan had screamed at me for hours, accusing me of "exploiting a brilliant mind for menial labor."

Whatever. I was leaving anyway.

I ignored the messy house and collapsed onto the couch.

My phone buzzed. By some cruel twist of algorithms, Instagram recommended a live stream of the UW lecture Ethan and Harper were attending.

The technical jargon meant nothing to me.

But during the Q&A session, Ethan and Harper walked up to the microphone together, holding hands.

They looked like a power couple. The crowd in the auditorium started teasing them.

The host smiled and asked, "Are you two a couple?"

Harper grinned proudly. "Yes, we've been classmates since preschool. We even share the exact same research focus."

A student in the crowd shouted, "You guys are so lucky! It must be amazing to have a partner who truly understands your mind!"

Harper nodded warmly. "Absolutely. If you're looking for love, make sure you find someone who walks the same path as you."

Ethan spoke into the mic, his voice firm and clear.

"I agree. Never tie yourself down to someone who is just a drag on your life."

A drag.

I let out a bitter laugh.

Ethan and Harper both had mild Asperger's, which they used as an excuse to ignore basic life skills.

In elementary school, they didn't know how to tie their shoes. I was the one who knelt down to do it.

In high school, they couldn't navigate public transit. I held their hands and guided them.

In college, I cleaned their dorms and took care of them when they were sick.

To support my fianc and my best friend, I had entirely sacrificed my own life.

And in return, I was just "a drag."

By that night, they were trending on local social media.

People posted their report cards from elementary school, their matching SAT scores, and their joint Ivy League publications.

They were a match made in heaven.

But in the corner of every old photo, there was always a tiny, blurry figure. Me.

I closed my eyes and shut off my phone.

The people who promised to "come right home and take care of me" never returned that night.

The next morning, I wrote my resignation letter and walked into the institute.

The moment I entered, the atmosphere was suffocating.

"Chloe isn't even that pretty. How dare she try to steal Ethan?"

"Right? I saw the video. She literally forced her way into Dr. Miller's car yesterday."

"Yeah, but she got kicked out halfway! So embarrassing!"

I opened WhatsApp and saw a leaked video in the company group chat. It showed me getting into Ethan's car yesterday, looking desperate, while Ethan looked cold and annoyed.

I looked like a pathetic stalker trying to force myself onto a taken man.

Just as I was about to type a message to clarify our relationship, Ethan posted in the group chat first.

"Chloe is just our roommate. She is also Harper's friend. Please respect her privacy."

With that one message, the office's contempt for me solidified.

"How shameless. Trying to steal her best friend's guy while living under their roof."

I felt ice in my veins. I marched into Ethan's office and confronted him.

"Why didn't you tell them I'm your fiance? Why did you call me a roommate?"

Ethan closed his eyes, his voice utterly cold. "What did you want me to say, Chloe? Everyone in the industry thinks Harper and I are together!"

"If I deny it, what will they think of Harper? Do you have any idea how much gossip that would start?"

"We just need to keep our distance at work from now on."

"Once we host the actual wedding and invite our colleagues, the truth will come out naturally."

So, he did understand how damaging rumors could be.

He wasn't incapable of empathy; he just saved all of his empathy for Harper.

But it didn't matter. There was never going to be another wedding.

My last day at the institute was a night shift.

Close to midnight, the building's fire alarms suddenly wailed.

A thick, black smoke began pouring under the door.

Fire!

The fire had started on the second floor and was spreading rapidly.

Within seconds, the smoke was suffocating me.

Flames burst through the hallway, searing my arm. I collapsed near the exit, gasping for air.

Through my fading vision, I saw someone burst through the smoke with a fire extinguisher.

It was Ethan.

"Ethan... I'm here..."

Pain and terror surged through me. I reached out with the last of my strength, grabbing the hem of his jeans like a drowning person clutching a lifeline.

But he didn't even look down.

"Harper! Where are you?!" he screamed, his voice raw with panic.

Before I lost consciousness, all I heard was him screaming her name.

...

I woke up in a sterile hospital room. The burns on my neck and arm were throbbing with agonizing pain. Every tiny movement felt like needles in my flesh.

"It hurts..." I whispered.

Seeing Ethan sitting by my bed, a wave of grief washed over me. The pain of being abandoned in the fire made tears spill over my cheeks.

"Why didn't you look at me?" My voice cracked.